


Love Turns You Upside Down

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Falling Skies
Genre: Canon Typical Triggers, Crossover, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8322271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: A local boy follows Zevran and Sereda back to camp after a run into Denerim.  Since it's late, they have to keep him safe overnight.  It turns out they enjoy getting to know him.
ALTERNATIVELY
After getting mad at Hal, Matt Mason follows two strangers (and their dog) to their camp in the woods to learn to fight.  Things don't entirely go as expected.  Set in the Dragon Age universe.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ittybittymattycommittee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ittybittymattycommittee/gifts).



“Matt, we’re not knights, and this probably isn’t even a Blight,” Hal says  _ again _ because that’s what he always says.  

“We could be!  I can learn to fight!” Matt protests, crossing his arms.  “I fight other kids sometimes!”

“We’re not nobility, Matt.  We can’t be proper knights,” Hal explains, again, because that’s what he always says.  

“That’s dumb!  I can learn to fight just as well as an arl’s son!” Matt exclaims.  

“It’s just not how things are done,” Hal says gently.  

Matt pushes off the comforting arm around his shoulder.  He’s not in the mood to be comforted.  Ben might be happy to study and be a nerd, but Matt won’t ever be.  

Hal sighs and leaves him alone.  That’s good, because it means that Matt can sneak out of the house.  He pulls the window open and crawls out onto the roof.  The sun is warm with promise as he shimmies down the gutter and his feet hit the stone.  

Matt wanders down to the market because he likes to watch the comings and goings of the city.  There are always cool people to watch and trouble to get into.  

It’s mostly other humans, which is kind of a bummer.  Sometimes there’s this grumpy qunari that Hal likes to flirt with and sometimes he’ll stand there while Matt climbs him so he can see what it’s like being tall, but he’s nowhere to be seen today.  He could always try to sneak into the alienage to meet some elves again, but last time he got caught, the guard brought him right home.  Matt doesn’t want to go home yet.  

He wanders around for a few hours, maybe.  His feet start to hurt and he gets hungry, but he’s still too annoyed about not being a knight to go home.  Dad gives them all a few coins just in case of emergency, though, so he buys some bread from a stall.

While he’s sitting and eating, Matt catches the glint of armor out of the corner of his eye.  He turns to see a dwarven woman and an elven man laughing together, both clad in armor and accompanied by a mabari.  That’s not something that he’s ever seen before.  The dwarves in the city are almost all merchants or smiths and the few elves he’s seen are mostly… sad.  And a mabari means that they must be good people!

Since they’re by far the most interesting people that he’s seen all day, Matt shoves the rest of the bread into his mouth and decides to follow them.  

-

It’s been a pretty good day.  Sereda had a chat with Gorim, she found a shiny gem that she thinks Shale will like, and she got to spend the whole day with Zevran and Valda.  She could spend hours just chatting with him, especially in the bustle of the marketplace.

She and Zevran had volunteered to run into the city to run a few errands alone (with Valda for protection and to keep Wynne from washing him), which everyone else had happily agreed to, tired out from the Brecilian Forest.  They had mentioned that they probably wouldn’t make all the way back to camp tonight, another thing that everyone happily agreed to.  Apparently their talking, laughing, and love making keeps everyone up at night. 

They set up camp outside Denerim, off the main road a little ways to avoid patrols and stray travelers.  Since the weather is nice, they don’t bother with a tent; they like sleeping under the stars.

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” Sereda says as she takes off her armor.  It’s good to just wear her clothes.  “It was a fun day, even if we did have to go to the Chantry.”

“I quite enjoy going to the Chantry, actually,” Zevran says.  “I would never try to convert you, of course, but I do try to make it to services when I can.”

“Mhmmmm.  Then perhaps we can go back soon,” Sereda hums.  She tucks a strand of hair behind his ear just to touch him.  “But for now it’s just you and me.”

Zevran leans forward and Sereda can feel the anticipation in her belly.  They’ve kissed so many times, but she still gets excited to feel his lips pressed against hers.  It’s been so long since she’s felt this way about anyone.  

His golden eyes flick away from hers, looking at something behind her.  He doesn’t look alarmed, perse, but he does frown just a little.  And he’s no longer moving closer.  

“My dear Warden, I believe that we have company,” Zevran murmurs softly.  

“What?” Sereda asks. 

At least it’s not darkspawn; she doesn’t feel the Blight anywhere around them.  

“There is a young human child just outside our camp,” Zevran says, voice still low.  “He seems to be watching us very intently, from a tree.”

“We should probably keep our clothes on, then,” Sereda says, eyes still trained on Zevran.  

His lips curve into a soft smile.  “I agree.  However, I am concerned that he might be a scout for the Crows.  They do use children, and the contract on your life is still in effect.  It is sooner than I expected, but I knew that they would figure out you were alive eventually.”

“There’s a bounty on your head, right?” Sereda asks, frowning now.  “They could be coming for you, too?”

“Mmmm, yes, but I’m certain they’re more concerned about you,” Zevran says.  “The honor of the guild and all.  And you’re worth quite a lot dead.”

“Hey, guys, I like your swords!” a voice comes from behind her.  

Zevran raises his eyebrows.  

“I don’t think that’s an Antivan Crow spy,” Sereda says before turning towards the voice.  “Thank you.”

The kid drops out of a tree, and Sereda gets a good look at him.  He’s got a curly mop of hair on his head, but he looks decently fed, unlike a lot of the kids in Denerim.  The clothes fit him well, too, and his shirt isn’t missing any buttons.  There’s probably someone out there looking for him.  

At the sound of his crash to earth, Valda perks up.  He walks over to the kid and sniffs a little before laying back down.  Honestly, that’s enough to put Sereda’s mind at ease.  If the kid had any animosity towards them, Valda would be growling right now.  

“You even have a mabari!  That must mean you’re, like, really important warriors, right?” the kid asks.  “And good people!  Mabari only imprint on good people!”

“Do you want to pet him?  Valda is scary looking, but he’s friendly, I promise,” Sereda says.  “Just be gentle.”

“Yeah!” the kid says, bending down to scratch Valda behind the ears.  “Valda is a funny name.”

“He’s named after a queen of Orzammar,” Sereda says.  

“Woah, really?” the kid asks.  “That’s, uh, underground.  Ben said so.”

“Yep,” Sereda says, watching him.  “She led during the Storm Age, one of the few women elected by the Assembly to rule.  Did an incredibly good job, too.”

“Cool,” Matt says, still petting Valda.  

“I’m Sereda and this is Zevran,” Sereda says, expecting his name and not getting it.

“And what should we call you?” Zevran asks.  

“I’m Matt,” he says, not looking away from Valda.  “I wanna fight, but Hal says I can’t be a knight, so I’m running away with you to show him that I can learn to fight.”

There’s a brief silence as Sereda and Zevran exchange a look.  That’s certainly a pronouncement to make.  

“Really?” Sereda finally asks, feeling like she needs to hear a little more before she can say anything.  

“Yeah!” Matt says, looking up at them.  “I’ve never seen a dwarf and elf in armor before, so I figured you must not be regular knights, so maybe you’d teach me.  I don’t know if you know, but there’s a Blight.”

Zevran laughs.  “He’s an enthusiastic child for sure.”  

“I’m not a child!” Matt protests.  “If the Blight comes to Denerim, I want to be able to kill darkspawn.”

“I’m a Grey Warden, so-”

Matt jumps forward.  “Really?  Grey Wardens?  Teryn Loghain says they killed our king, but Ben says that’s wrong because Grey Wardens are good.”

“Only the beautiful lady is a Grey Warden, I’m afraid,” Zevran says.  “I simply help her.”

“But you still fight, right?” Matt asks.  

“Since I was a young boy,” Zevran says.  

“So you can teach me!” Matt exclaims.  “The Grey Wardens fight the Blight!  I want to help them like you do.  I know I can’t fight yet, but I can pick fruit or clean your armor.”

Zevran laughs.  “What is it about you, my dear Warden, that makes everyone offer to shine your armor?”

“It’s really cool and shiny!” Matt says.  “That’s probably why.”

“An excellent point,” Zevran says.  

“I think I need to talk to Zevran for a minute,” Sereda interrupts.  “Valda will keep you company.”

“Okay!” Matt says returning to petting Valda.  

Sereda and Zevran take a few steps away, so they can confer in quiet voices.  

“What do we do with him?” Sereda asks.  “I mean, until we return him.”

“I take it that you’re not going to take him up on his offer to polish your armor?” Zevran replies.  

Sereda laughs a little.  “I don’t think our camp is a good place for a child.  It’s too late to take him back to Denerim tonight, but tomorrow, we have to return him.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Zevran says.  “But I’m not sure if he’ll tell us where to return him to.  He seems incredibly determined to fight the darkspawn.  We are far enough away from Denerim that most idle children would have already returned home.”

“Maybe if we teach him a few things, he’ll open up.  He might miss Hal or Ben, whoever they are,” Sereda says.  

“I will start with dinner and you can teach him,” Zevran suggests.  

Sereda raises her eyebrows.  “What?  Me?”

“You have been excellent with the children we’ve met in our adventures.  The child in Redcliffe trusted you,” Zevran points out.  

“It must be a human child thing.  Because we’re the same height or so,” Sereda says with a sigh.  

“I’m certain it’s because you come off as a kind and caring individual,” Zevran says.

Sereda blinks, the compliment making the heat bloom in her belly.  “You are too charming for my own good.”

Zevran grins and presses a quick kiss to her cheek.  “Enjoy.”

Sereda turns back towards Matt with a smile on her face.  There is some strange part of her that’s actually looking forward to this.  She’s not quite sure why- she’s never been one for children, at least not in the way that she’s seen some people fawn over them.

“Okay, first things first, Matt.  We have to get some sticks,” Sereda says.  

“What?  What about the swords?” Matt asks.

“Have you ever held a sword before?” Sereda asks.

“No…” Matt admits, not quite looking at her.  

“Then- if you could even pick it up- the sword would make you too exhausted to actually learn much,” Sereda says.  “Don’t worry: when my brother first started teaching me to swordfight, we started off with practice swords, too.”

“Your brother taught you?” Matt asks, suddenly finding this much more interesting.

“For a little bit.  Father wouldn’t let me learn, so Trian taught me what he was learning,” Sereda says.  “Come on.  Let’s go find some good quality sticks so I can show you a few things.”

“Can Valda come?” Matt asks.

“I think he should stay here to protect Zevran- and so he doesn’t slobber all over our sticks.  Number one rule of swordfighting: don’t let the mabari slobber on your sword,” Sereda says.  

“My dear Warden, I believe the number one rule is actually: don’t touch the pointy end,” Zevran says.  

Sereda laughs, tossing Zevran a smile over her shoulder.  “Okay, Zevran is right.  But there are no pointy ends with sticks, so it’s fine.”

“I’m gonna find the biggest stick in the forest!” Matt says running into the woods.

Sereda doesn’t have time to reply; she runs after him to keep him in sight.  

-

This was going to be a nice, private night for him and Sereda, away from their companions yelling at them to quiet down (and insinuating that he’s going to kill her.  He understood, at first, but now it makes him inexplicably angry, even as a joke).  She’s looked more and more tense lately, and he had hoped to give her a relaxing night.  

Zevran had even used the small bit of gold he’s accumulated in their time together to purchase some nug, apparently right from Orzammar.  She’s mentioned before that something about surface nugs just tastes wrong somehow.  

He also has spices, so he gets to work seasoning it, hoping that she enjoys a little oomph in her food.  Fereldens rarely do, but Sereda isn’t actually Ferelden.  

While he works, Zevran keeps an eye on Sereda and Matt.  He doesn’t think that he’s some Crow spy anymore; Valda would certainly see through that.  But there’s something that makes him want to keep his distance from the child.  

Most of what Zevran has known has been killing.  Since he was seven, that’s what the Crows raised him to do.  What wasn’t killing was sex.  Neither of these things seem appropriate to talk about with the child that’s followed them to their camp.  

It makes his stomach twist strangely, and he pushes the thought of not being able to properly talk to a kid away.  Sereda doesn’t seem to have the same problem; even before running off to get the sticks, she’s said more about her brother than in the months they’ve travelled together.

Sereda has shown Matt a good basic stance for swordfighting.  She’s got a wide smile on her face as she swipes at him, slowly and obviously, so he can block her.  

“I’m fighting a Grey Warden!” Matt yells as he strikes back, all messy and overeager.  

Sereda twirls away easily.  “You’re trying, alright.”

“I’m a better fighter than all the other kids on my street!  Hal and Ben say I should stop picking fights, but some kids are mean, you know?” Matt says, stabbing at her again.  

Sereda laughs as she blocks him and taps his arm lightly with her stick.  “Yeah, I know.  Who are Hal and Ben?  Your brothers?”

“Older brothers, yeah.  Ben’s the smart one.  Hal’s the one in charge because Dad’s gone all the time.  I’m the dumb one,” Matt says, refusing to give up and stabbing at her again.  “Which is good.  Not everyone can be smart.  It’s why I wanna be the one who can fight, so I can be useful, too.  I tried to join the army, but they laughed at me.”

“Mmmmm,” Sereda says as she jumps back.  “They said they want you to be useful?” 

“Nah,” Matt says, following her aggressively.  “My brothers think they need to baby me because Mom’s dead and Dad’s never around, but I’m not a baby.”

Sereda seems content to let him attack at her so she can bat his strikes away.  It’s easy, and Matt is clearly growing more frustrated.  

“It’s because they care,” Sereda says.  “We did the same thing to my younger brother, Bhelen, after Mother died.”

“Yeah, you have a dead mom, too?” Matt asks, starting to pant.  

“Yep,” Sereda says.  “I was six.  I don’t remember her well.”

“That sucks,” Matt says.  “What happened?”

She glances over at Zevran for a second before shifting so her back is to him.  What a smooth move from his Warden.  But he can still listen with interest.  

“Mother got between my brothers and I and some bad men.  The healers tried to save her, but there was nothing that could be done,” Sereda says.  “So she died.”

This is certainly news to Zevran.  Beyond the fact that she comes from Orzammar and was exiled, she’s revealed absolutely nothing about herself on purpose.  If it wasn’t for the Guardian, he wouldn’t even know that she had brothers at all.  

It’s easy to tell that she was important in Orzammar, though.  She walks with a surety born of knowing from birth that she was important, and someone trained her to fight like that.  It would also explain how easily she apparently took command after the massacre at Ostagar.  Not that Alistair is a difficult man to overrule, but not everyone is actually good at leading.  

“I don’t remember my mom either.  She was just gone one day and they found her and she was dead,” Matt says, very matter of factly.  “I dunno.  The kids teased that she left us on purpose, but then she was dead so they shut up.”

“They ever find who did it?” Sereda asks.

“Nah.  They find who killed your mom?” Matt asks.  

“Yep,” Sereda says.  “Every single one.”

“Good,” Matt says.  

“I know you’re frustrated, but you can’t strike at me out of frustration,” Sereda chides gently.  “That’s a good way to get yourself killed quick.”

“But I’m not hitting you or anything!  I’m mad!” Matt yells.  

“I have been doing this for as long as you’ve been alive, I bet,” Sereda says.  “I could beat you if Zevran tied my hands together.”

Zevran snorts.  He quite likes tying her hands together sometimes.  The meat crackles temptingly on the fire, reminding Zevran that he does have to pay attention to dinner.

“I still want to hit you,” Matt says.  

“Do you want to earn it or do you want me to make it easy?” Sereda asks.  

“Earn it!” Matt says.

“You might land a hit yet,” Sereda says.  “That’s a good attitude.”

“Everyone says I have a bad attitude, usually,” Matt says.  

Sereda laughs.  “I like you so far.”

“I like you, too,” Matt says.  

“Now, you have to start striking with purpose, with thought,” Sereda says.

“I’m a bad thinker,” Matt says.

“Until you get seasoned enough to go on instinct, you have to do at least some thinking,” Sereda says.  

“Fine, maybe I could do some thinking,” Matt says.  

“Maybe you could notice that my right side is wide open, so you could definitely take a swing to take advantage of it,” Sereda says.  

“But then you moved!” Matt complains as Sereda blocks his swing.  

“You have to try to notice it yourself!” Sereda retorts.  “Darkspawn don’t tell you when you can hit them.”

“Okay, that’s probably true,” Matt says as he tries and fails again to hit her.  

“I’ve killed a few darkspawn in my day.  They don’t talk about much of anything,” Sereda says.  “Just lots of grunting.”

Sereda corrects a few more things as they continue to spar, Matt failing to hit her each time.  She makes a few weak thrusts, too, letting a few of them hit lightly, but also letting Matt hit them away.  

Something about watching her so carefully coaching this child makes Zevran feel strange.  It’s a good strange, maybe.  He wonders if it would be so bad if they let Matt stay with them.

“I hate to interrupt your fight, but I believe the food is ready,” Zevran says.  “It is very important that two strong warriors such as yourselves are properly fed, after all.”  

“He’s right,” Sereda says, lowering her stick as Matt does the same.  “A warrior’s gotta eat.”

Matt manages to squeeze his way between them somehow, all of them sitting on a log by the fire.  Getting between the two of them isn’t an easy thing and Zevran commends him on his skill.  

“What is it?” Matt asks, poking at the meat on his plate.  

“Nug,” Zevran says.  “Specifically, nug straight from Orzammar.  With some Antivan spices, of course.”

“You got us underground nugs?” Sereda asks with a note of excitement.  “How did you do it without me seeing?”

“You have spoke so highly about it that I wanted to try it, and I cannot help it if you aren’t that observant,” Zevran says.

“Sneaky,” Sereda says.  She bites into the nug and groans delightfully.  “Oh, Zevran, now that’s what I’ve missed.  Ancestors, you just can’t beat it.”

“It’s kind of weird tasting,” Matt says.  

“Those are spices,” Zevran says.  “Not very common in Ferelden, but widely enjoyed in my homeland of Antiva.”  

“So, you’re not a Grey Warden?” Matt asks curiously.  “Or Ferelden?”

“I am not, no,” Zevran says.  

“Then how did you end up in Ferelden with the Grey Wardens?” Matt asks.  

Zevran realizes that he probably shouldn’t admit to attempting to murder Sereda as a form of suicide.  Mostly because the kid seems fond enough of Sereda (and wildly uncontrolled enough) to punch him in the face during dinner.

“I suppose I’m somewhat like you.  I heard of the strength and skill of the Grey Warden and decided to find her,” Zevran says.  That’s close enough to the truth.

“You wanted to learn to fight, too?” Matt asks.  

Zevran chuckles.  “I already knew how to fight.  I was simply looking for a change.”

“Oooh,” Matt says, nodding.  “And now you get to fight the Blight!  That’s pretty cool.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Zevran says.  

Honestly, he’s surprised himself lately with how much he wants them to succeed.  Not because it’ll bring an end to his loyalty oath to Sereda (in some ways, that’s an unpleasant thought, if he’s being truthful), but because he’s realizing how important this is.  Doing something important, for the benefit of Thedas and not the advancement of some prince with coin, feels good in a way he can’t explain.  

He had never been ambitious, but he had largely looked out for himself.  There’s not much else one can do in the Crows and live.  But now he’s working to help Thedas with very little hope of reward or survival, and yet he’s happier than he’s ever been.  Strange.

“You could teach me how to fight, too!” Matt says.  

“I think Sereda’s fighting style better suits you,” Zevran says.  “I was taught to fight stealthily.  Sereda is much more straightforward.”

“Oooh, he’s on his best behavior tonight.  Usually he says ‘graceless,’” Sereda teases, smiling up at him. 

“Our new friend seems quite fond of you, and I don’t want him to tackle me during dinner,” Zevran replies.  

“I think he’d tackle a lot of people for a lot of things,” Sereda says.

“I would,” Matt confirms. 

“At least he’s honest,” Sereda says, nudging Matt gently.  “Although, perhaps don’t tackle anyone during dinner.”

“Now you sound like Hal,” Matt says glumly.  “He’s always saying ‘don’t tackle people’ and ‘stop throwing food at me.’”

“I’m pretty sure all big brothers sound like that,” Sereda says.  

“Do they ever  _ stop _ ?” Matt asks.  

Sereda goes suddenly still, swallowing hard, and Zevran watches her sudden change in demeanor with concern.

“I don’t know.  Trian mostly got worse, until he died,” Sereda says quietly.  “Maybe he would’ve gotten better if he had the chance to… to get older.”

“Oh…” Matt says, kicking at the ground.  “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Sereda agrees.  “But if he wasn’t killed, I would never have come to the surface, so things work themselves out I think.  Maybe.  I hope.”

“Are you finding the guys who killed him?” Matt asks.

Sereda laughs a little.  “No, no.  Sometimes, there are things more important than revenge.”

“Like what?” Matt asks.  

“Living.  Doing what’s right,” Sereda says.  “Killing lots of darkspawn, probably.”

“That last one makes sense, at least,” Matt says brightly.  “And your brother probably likes it, too.  Like, in honor of him or whatever!”

“Mmm,” Sereda says vaguely.  “C’mon, if you finish up with the nug that Zevran so kindly cooked for us, I can show you a few more things before bed.”

“But, uh, Valda looks so hungry!” Matt protests.

“Fereldens,” Zevran scoffs.  “None of you appreciate good spices.”

“Actually, it’s the meat.  It’s got a weird texture,” Matt says.  

“It is most unusual,” Zevran agrees.  “Not necessarily bad, but it has a certain quality…”

“Well, I just think it’s bad,” Matt says primly.

“Surfacers,” Sereda soffs, smiling at him.  “None of you appreciate high quality nug.”

“Ah, hopefully you can forgive us our unrefined palates,” Zevran says. 

Sereda reaches over to skim her fingers over his back.  “I’ll think about it.”

“You are so benevolent, my dear Warden,” Zevran says.  

Matt tries to sneakily crawl over to Valda with his plate, and Zevran scoots close enough to wrap an arm around Sereda.  There’s a small, fond smile on her face as she watches him try to entice Valda with the meat.

Sereda’s head leans comfortably on his chest and she rests a warm hand on his knee as Valda sniffs at Matt’s plate curiously.  It feels so nice to sit here like this in quiet, shared amusement and watch Matt try and fail to feed Valda.  There’s something deep inside of him that finds this deeply satisfying.  

The thought of having a future with Sereda is so… alluring.  She’s heavily implied that she won’t make him leave once she’s through fighting the Blight, but he can’t quite bring himself to believe it.  Their sexual relationship was supposed to be a pleasant diversion, but it’s accidentally become so much more to him.  He doesn’t know what it is, or if she feels the same, but it’s so much more than he ever expected.  

For the briefest of moments, he envisions that Matt’s a little half elven, half dwarven child with reddish-blond hair.  It twists him inside in all kinds of ways and some of them are even good.

-

Matt tries to feed Valda the weird underground meat, but he doesn’t seem interested.  He understands.  The texture is really, really weird.  He doesn’t know why Sereda apparently wanted this kind of meat on purpose, but it’s not as good as the meat that Hal gets from the market.  

“C’mon, boy.  Eat the weird underground meat so I don’t have to,” Matt urges.  

Valda just looks at him, seemingly unimpressed.  

“He hunts for his food when he gets hungry,” Sereda says.  “But you can give him one of these.”  

Matt turns away from Valda to see her offering him a handful of bone shaped biscuits.  He crawls over to her and takes the biscuits from her.  They smell really good and there’s definitely cheese on them, so he takes a bite of one.

“These are really good,” Matt says, looking up to see Zevran and Sereda both looking at him with horrified looks.  “What?” 

“That is a mabari treat.  For the mabari,” Zevran says.  

“But there’s cheese on them and they taste good…” Matt protests as he shoves the rest of it into his mouth.

“Fereldens are…” Zevran presses his lips together and shakes his head.  “This is a crime against good taste.”

Sereda pats Zevran’s arm.  “There, there.  I greatly enjoyed your dinner.  It’s the best thing I’ve eaten since I left Orzammar.”

“They must have really bad food in Orzammar,” Matt says, snacking on another treat.  “Isn’t it, like, underground?  Yeah, that explains a lot.”

“Hey!  We have Provings underground.  You may be human, but you would love Provings,” Sereda says.  “So don’t diss living underground.”

“What’re those?” Matt asks around another crunch.  

“We seek the favor of the Ancestors by showing our skills in battle.  There are all different forms of Provings, but that’s the point of them all.  To prove our worth and gain glory and honor for ourselves and our Houses,” Sereda says grandly.  

Matt’s eyes widen.  “That sounds so cool!  Did you ever fight in a Proving?  Oooh, did you beat everyone?”

Sereda grins.  “I did!  The, uh, princess received her first commission and a Proving was held in her honor.  I fought many of Orzammar’s most skilled warriors and I won.”  

“I knew it!  I’m sure everyone thought you were the best!” Matt says.

Sereda laughs, leaning against Zevran.  “I won a Proving Helm and the honor for my House.  It was… a very good feeling.”

“I wanna go to a Proving!  I want to win a Proving!” Matt decides.  

“They only let outsiders fight in true Provings under very specific circumstances,” Sereda says.  “But you could definitely watch.”

“Are we going to go to Orzammar?” Matt asks.  

Sereda nods.  “Yes, we are.”

“Cool!  But I’m bringing my own food.  Or else eating Valda’s,” Matt says, eating on another crunch.

“Surfacers,” Sereda says, shaking her head.  “But those things are expensive, so make sure you save a few for Valda, okay?” 

“Okay!” Matt says.

He looks back towards Valda and he’s looming over him.  Maybe it’s Matt’s imagination, but Valda looks a less friendly than usual.  

“Oh, these are yours.  Aaaaaaaaaaaall yours,” Matt says, holding out the treats.

Valda immediately gobbles up the treats, downing them with impressive speed and leaving his hands a gooey mess.  Wow, he must really enjoy the treats.  

“Ah, yes, the Valda slobber,” Zevran says.  “As familiar as the mabari himself.”  

“It’s cute,” Sereda says.

Zevran makes an amused humming noise.  

“Can you show me more about how to fight?  I want to hit you with a stick,” Matt says.

“That’s a very common feeling, or so that’s the impression I’ve gotten,” Sereda says dryly.  “Maybe you and Zevran should team up.”

“I don’t want help!  I want to do it on my own,” Matt protests.  

Zevran laughs as he stands up, scrounging for a stick.  “Trust me, even with my assistance, it’ll still be a fight.  She is quite formidable.”

“Hmm… Okay,” Matt agrees, looking for sticks, too.  “So how do you fight?  All stealthily or whatever?”

“I generally try to charm my opponent so they don’t  _ want  _ to kill me,” Zevran says, picking up a stick and swinging it.  

“Mhm,” Sereda says.  “And how has that worked for you?”

“My dear Warden, I am still alive and you have the pleasure of my company, yes?” Zevran teases.  “So it has worked well enough.”

“Okay, good point,” Sereda concedes.  “But you have yet to end a battle with darkspawn by successfully charming them.” 

“I know how you like to stab them, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you, my dear,” Zevran says lightly.  “Now, are we ready to fight?”

“Yeah!” Matt says.  He grabs his stick and comes to stand by Zevran.  “Let’s get her!”

Sereda laughs, twirling her stick.  “Bring it, boys.”

Matt is ready to charge at her, but Zevran crouches beside him and puts a hand lightly on his back.  He pauses, not sure why Zevran is pausing their attack.  

“Let us plan a little strategy, hmm?  You attack her left side, and I will take her right,” Zevran says.  “This will divide her attention, make it more difficult for her to whack us with her stick.”

“Can I take her right side?  That’s where she’s holding her stick,” Matt says.  

“I must say, you’re one of very, very few people who has ever wanted to be on the side holding the stick,” Zevran says.

“It’s the best way to learn, right?” Matt says, not knowing very much about learning given that it’s something that he’s usually avoided.

Zevran looks up at Sereda.  “Matt would like it if you had two sticks like usual, because he’s an excellent student and apparently doesn’t mind getting hit with sticks.”

“Are you sure?” Sereda asks, leaning down to grab another stick.  

“Yes!” Matt says.  

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sereda says.

“I don’t!” Matt says.

Zevran chuckles softly.  “Now, take her left side and I will take her right.”

“Okay!” Matt says, charging forward.  

“The enthusiasm of childhood,” Zevran says softly before joining him.

Matt stabs at Sereda’s left side, getting swatted aside each time.  At least this time, it seems a little harder for her, since she has to pay attention to Zevran, too.  She still manages to give them both a few good whacks with her sticks, but Zevran gets a few whacks in, too.  Matt, unfortunately, remains whackless. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Zevran asks as he lands a hit on her leg.

“You know I am,” Sereda says.  “We have to do this in private sometime.”

“I like the way you think,” Zevran says. 

“I know,” Sereda says smugly.  

Matt lunges forward just as Sereda jumps back away from them both.  He overextends himself, and he teeters forward, accidentally stabbing Zevran in the gut before regaining his balance.  

Zevran curls forward with a grunt and Sereda drops her sticks.  She grabs his shoulder, looking up at him worriedly.  

Matt feels his stomach drop out as he takes a step back.  He hurt one of his new friends.  What if he hurt him badly?  

“Ah, my dear, don’t look so worried,” Zevran says, wheezing a little.  “Just one little stab.  I have had much worse.  Caught me off guard is all.”

Sereda leans up and kisses Zevran’s cheek gently.  “Of course I worry.”

“I am fine, my dear Warden,” Zevran says.  “Just a little winded.”

“I’m, uh, real sorry, Zevran,” Matt says, hating the stupid waver in his voice.  He can’t look Zevran in the eye.  “I promise, I was only trying to hit Sereda.”

Zevran chuckles, pulling away from Sereda to kneel in front of him.  He gingerly sets a hand on Matt’s shoulder and slides two fingers under his chin.  His fingers nudge his face upwards so he has to look at Zevran.

“I know.  You just fell off balance.  It’s okay,” Zevran says slowly.  

“Then why do you look so sad?” Matt asks.  “Did I hurt you real bad?”

“No, no.  I’m fine,” Zevran assures him.  “And I’m not sad.  I promise.”

“Okay, good,” Matt says.  “Because you’re, like, my friend, and I wouldn’t want to make my friend sad because I’m really bad at making friends.”

Zevran smiles at him.  “Don’t worry, we’re still friends.”

“That’s good!” Matt says, beaming back at him.  “You’re super cool.”

“Yes, I am!” Zevran says cheerily.  

“Don’t encourage his ego,” Sereda says with fondness in her voice.

Zevran gives his shoulder a squeeze before standing up.  “You like it when I’m cocky.”

Sereda makes a dismissive noise.  “Maybe you should rest for a minute.  I don’t want you straining yourself.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Zevran says.  

“Humor me,” Sereda says.  “And you can give Matt a few tips because I’m terrible at correcting his form.”

“For you, my dear,” Zevran says, sitting on a log.  “And Matt?”

“Yeah?” Matt says.  

“The second rule of swordfighting is to not stab the people on your side,” Zevran says.  He could have said it in a mean way that made Matt feel bad, but there’s a hint of humor in his voice that makes Matt grin.

“Gotcha!” Matt says, squaring off against Sereda again.

-

Zevran curls around Sereda, nuzzling the top of her head.  She’s managed to fall asleep relatively quickly, which is good.  He knows she’s been having problems sleeping lately.  

Even though this is far from the night that he had planned for her, Zevran thinks it’s been remarkably good for her.  

He looks across the fire to where Matt is sleeping with his face buried in Valda’s fur.  It’s been a good day for them all.  

The enjoyment that Zevran has gotten from helping Sereda teach Matt the basics of sword fighting has surprised him.  It’s been fun and Matt seems to have had fun too, no matter how many times Sereda whacked him lightly with the stick.  It certainly wouldn’t be the worst thing if they couldn’t find Matt’s family.  

Since Zevran is on watch, he keeps an ear out for any approaching darkspawn or soldiers.  He doesn’t hear either, but he does hear the starting sounds of Sereda’s darkspawn nightmare.  Her breathing gets faster and she makes scared noises in the back of her throat.  Over the last few months, Zevran has become intimately familiar with the signs.  

There’s nothing that he can do except stroke her face and hope it’s over quickly.  She’s given him very firm instructions: do not wake her up from her nightmares.  Something about wanting to gather intelligence on the archdemon.  Personally, he thinks her distress isn’t worth it, but he acquiesces to her wishes anyway.

“What’s wrong with her?” Matt’s voice is sleepy and his eyes are bright from where he’s watching them, curled up with Valda.  

“She’s having a nightmare,” Zevran says.  “Do not worry, it is very common.”

“Well, wake her up!” Matt says.  

“I can’t,” Zevran says.  

“Yes, you can,” Matt says.

Sereda starts to shake and the scared noises get a little louder as she presses herself against him instinctively.  He hates this part, the part where her face contorts with anguish and all he can do is kiss her hair and stroke her cheek and murmur to her in soft Antivan, hoping that some bit of comfort gets through to her.  

“Please, wake her up, Zevran,” Matt pleads.  “Please.” 

Zevran can’t ignore Matt’s fear, Sereda’s fear, and his own fear, so he shakes Sereda’s shoulder gently.

“Hey,” Zevran says when her eyes open.  “You’re safe, my dear.”

Sereda looks around helpless, looking for something that Zevran can’t see.  

“You were scaring Matt,” Zevran explains quietly.  “I thought waking you up was for the best.”

“Zevran…” Sereda’s voice is shaking.  “There are darkspawn around.”

“What?” Zevran asks.

Sereda sits up, looking over at Matt.  “I have to get out of here, Zevran.  They can sense me.  I’m like a beacon.”

“You can’t!” Matt protests.  “We can help you.”

Zevran can’t say he’s fond of the idea of her running off into the dark alone either.  But he lets her pull him to her feet and follows her across the fire anyway.  

“You do what Zevran says, okay?” Sereda says, kneeling next to Matt and resting a hand in his curls.  “If he says run, you run.  If he says hide, you hide.”

“I’m not a coward!” Matt protests.  

“I know,” Sereda says.  “But you’re young, and you shouldn’t have to see darkspawn just yet.”

“Let me help you get your armor on,” Zevran says.  

“There’s no time.  They’re too close,” Sereda says, turning to look back up at him.  

“My dear…” Zevran says, even though there’s no real argument to be had.  

Sereda’s mouth twitches into a smile.  “Don’t look so dour.  I love stabbing darkspawn.”

“Be sure to come back reasonably intact.  Alistair will never believe that you got eaten with darkspawn and I had nothing at all to do with it,” Zevran says lightly, even though his heart feels heavy.  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sereda says, standing back up.  She pulls him down gently, kissing his cheek and murmuring in his ear.  “Should something wildly unexpected happen, my coin purse is in my bag.  You're right: Alistair won’t listen.  Take it all and go.  Just get Matt back to his family first.”

Zevran’s heart beats faster, and he really, really doesn’t understand the amount of trust that she’s putting in him.  He could take some of her money and she’d never notice.  It’s absolute madness to trust someone like him.  

“As if I would abandon your cause,” Zevran says, surprised at the truth of it.

Sereda smiles at him.  “I know.  Now, I’ll be back soon.  Try not to miss me too much.”

She kisses his cheek again before grabbing her swords.  

Valda gets up, coming over to sniff at her.  

“You keep them safe, Valda,” Sereda says, patting his head.  

Valda barks quietly and licks her cheek.

“That’s right,” Sereda says, seemingly content.

Sereda gives them all one last cocky grin before disappearing into the woods, footsteps loud in the quiet night.  Her lack of stealth makes him cringe, but he supposes he doesn’t need to be stealthy when the darkspawn can sense her.  

“So we just… sit here?” Matt asks.  

“Yes,” Zevran says.  

He crosses over to his pack and grabs his daggers.  It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

“D’you have a sword that I could use?  Just in case?” Matt asks.  “I won’t stab you with it.  Promise.”

Zevran swallows, not sure what the right answer to that question is.  “If the darkspawn come, you run back towards the city.”  

“I can fight!” Matt protests.  

“You can run,” Zevran says firmly.  “Or if there’s just a few, hide in a tree.”

Matt kicks the ground sullenly, but his head snaps to attention as the sound of metal on metal clangs through the air.  

“Is that Sereda?” Matt asks.

“Yeah,” Zevran says as the first screams ring out.  He sifts through them to make sure they’re all darkspawn.  “That’s her.”  

“She’ll kill them all, right?” Matt asks.

Zevran sits next to him and wraps a hesitant arm around the small body next to him.  He’s pleasantly surprised when Matt snuggles close to him.  

“My dear Warden is very good at what she does,” Zevran says.  “Don’t worry.”

“Why don’t you ever call her Sereda?” Matt asks.  

The question makes him pause.  It’s not something that he’s ever really thought about.  Calling her ‘the Warden’ keeps a little distance between them, distance that he has such problem maintaining these days.  There is some deep part of him that worries that he loves her, and another deep part that worries that she loves him, and there’s something about her beautiful name rolling off his tongue that makes those fears manifest even stronger.  

Before Zevran has to reply, a dwarven screech of pain makes his heart beat into his throat.  There’s a terrifying silence before he hears the fight continue and he can breathe again.

“She’s okay, right?” Matt asks.

“Mhm,” Zevran says, nodding.  “I can still hear her fighting.”

He also has to listen for any approaching darkspawn, and he hates having to divide his attention.  At least Valda is also watching for darkspawn, pacing around the campsite.  As long as he doesn’t growl, Zevran feels moderately comforted.  

“She has fought many terrible adversaries and triumphed,” Zevran says to soothe them both.  “We have fought dragons and demons and ogres, and she had always won.”

“If you didn’t have me, you could go after her, couldn’t you?  You’d be fighting with her,” Matt says in a small voice.  

“Yes,” Zevran says, before looking down, seeing Matt’s hurt expression, and realizing that wasn’t enough of an answer.  “But we also wouldn’t’ve enjoyed today nearly as much.  It is worth it, and I know she would agree.”  

“I'm just some dumb kid putting you both in danger,” Matt says. 

“No one can learn to fight in a few hours.  Both Sereda and I trained for years to learn what we know,” Zevran consoles him.  

“Where did you learn?  From your brother like Sereda?” Matt asks. 

“No.  I had no siblings, but I was raised with many other children.  We learned our skills together,” Zevran says.  

“So,  _ like  _ siblings, then?” Matt asks.  

Siblings don’t kill each other, Zevran is certain of that.  At least not siblings like Matt means.  He has, of course, been paid to settle family affairs before.

“Not quite.  Future comrades, more like,” Zevran says.  

“Like knights?” Matt asks.  

Zevran doesn’t have to find a way to dance around his past life as an Antivan Crow because he hears someone crashing through the woods.  He checks on Valda; the mabari is growling softly.  It’s not Sereda, then.  

“Up the tree,” Zevran says, getting up and pulling Matt with him.  “Go on, quiet now.”

Matt looks unhappy, but he climbs the tree without complaint.  He’s an impressively quick climber, and Zevran follows after him.  

“You’re hiding, too?” Matt whispers when they’re nestled together.  

“As I said, I am excellent at stealth.  When I attack them, they won’t see me coming,” Zevran says softly.

Two hurlocks lumber into their camp.  Genlocks would have been better, but at least it’s only two.  

“Close your eyes and cover your ears,” Zevran says softly before darting to the next tree.

He wishes that he had the same seemingly psychic connection with Valda that Sereda does, because Valda strikes sooner than he would prefer.  But the hurlock is so distracted by Valda’s mouth around its leg that it doesn’t notice him drop behind its partner to slide his knife across its throat.  

It only takes another second for Zevran to drop the second hurlock, distracted by Valda as it is.  Zevran is glad that he manages to kill them quietly, so Matt doesn’t have to hear them scream.  

Zevran turns to check on Matt and his heart leaps into his throat.  There’s a genlock trying to climb up the tree as Matt jabs at it aggressively with a tree branch.  It’s still too far away for him to actually hit it, but Matt is fighting.  

Taking careful aim, Zevran throws one of his daggers at the exposed back of the genlock’s neck.  It pauses for a moment, teetering, and Zevran worries that he hasn’t thrown it hard enough to pierce its spine.  But then, it falls from the tree with a gross thud.

Before checking on Matt, Zevran crosses the space and slices its throat, just to be sure.  He wants it dead.  

“Are they dead?” Matt’s voice is wavering just a little.

“Yes, they’re all dead,” Zevran assures him.

Matt looks so shaky that Zevran crawls up the tree to sit with him on the branch.  Then, they hear another familiar scream and suddenly they’re both shaky.

“Is she de-?” Matt asks.  

“No,” Zevran interrupts.  “She’ll be back.  We just have to be patient.”  

“Okay,” Matt says.

Zevran tries not to get blood on him, but Matt presses against him anyway.   He wraps an arm around the small, shaking boy.  His heart is beating painfully hard in his chest as his ears strain for any sound indicating that Sereda is approaching.  

When he finally hears her crashing through the underbrush, he feels like he can breathe again.  She’s moving slower than usual, but that’s to be expected given the screams they heard.  As long as she’s moving, she’s alive.

Sereda finally comes into view, bloodied and with a damn arrow sticking out of her flank, but with her head held high.  She takes in the sight of the dead darkspawn and looks around worriedly.  

“Matt?  Zevran?” Sereda asks.  

“We’re here!” Matt says, waving.

Zevran slides out of the tree, letting his comfortable fake smile slide into place.  It’s his best, strongest armor.  

“Perhaps, we should find the rest of our travelling companions,” Zevran says.  “I’m sure Wynne would love to scold you for not wearing armor and spending time alone with me.”

“I just need a few stitches,” Sereda says.  “Are you both okay?”

“Zevran killed three darkspawn!” Matt says, dropping out of the tree with a thud.  “He threw his dagger like woah when one of them tried to climb up the tree.”

“He’s quite talented,” Sereda says, smiling up at him.  “It’s one of the many reasons why I like having him around.”

Sereda sits down and Zevran reaches out to help ease her way.  He sees a wide gash on her arm that must’ve been one of the screams.  

“We don’t have our full medical supplies,” Zevran says.  

“No anesthetic,” Sereda says.  “How about some whiskey or real strong ale?”

“I am afraid not, my dear,” Zevran says.  

Zevran goes through his pack, trying to find everything that he might need to patch her up.  He doesn’t relish the thought of performing impromptu surgery on Sereda, but he knows that she can’t walk around with an arrow in her side.  

“How can I help?” Matt asks quietly.  “I can, uh, ask the Maker for help?”

“I’m not Andrastian.  But if you want to pray, that’s okay,” Sereda says.  

That surprises Zevran.  She’s not hostile to Andrastians, not exactly, but she does get perturbed when people pray to the Maker for her or attribute her actions to the intercession of the Maker.  It’s the fact that no one will acknowledge that she isn’t an Andrastian that bothers her the most, Zevran is pretty sure.

“Who do you pray to?  I can ask them for help?” Matt asks.  

“Dwarves pray to the Ancestors for help.  For guidance,” Sereda says.  “They’re not gods, but they help sometimes.”

Zevran manages to find a clean knife in his pack, but he doesn’t have anything to stitch her up yet.  He finds her pack and starts to dig through it.  

“Then I’ll ask them for help!” Matt assures her.  “Even if I’m human, they’ve gotta listen because I’m praying for you!”

“Thank you,” Sereda says.  

“Okay, and, uh, is there anything else I can do?  Because I’m really bad at praying to my own god, and your Ancestors are probably different than the Maker,” Matt says, looking away.

“I’m sure you did just fine, but you can talk to me.  Tell me about your brothers.  You’re the baby, right?” Sereda asks.  

“I’m not a baby!” Matt protests.  

Sereda chuckles weakly as Zevran starts to clean the wound on her arm.  “Your baby brother is always your baby brother.  No matter how old he gets or what he does or how much you might want that to change.”

“Unfair,” Matt says.  

“I know.  I was Trian’s baby sister,”  Sereda says, voice tight with pain.  “It can be a pain.”

“But it’s good sometimes!  Like when Hal gives me piggyback rides or when Ben sneaks me chocolate,” Matt says.  “Or when we used to chase each other through Denerim and it was  _ Hal _ who had to smooth it over with everyone when we knocked their stuff over.”

“You guys, too?” Sereda wheezes.  “It’s good to know some things are the same everywhere.”

Zevran goes to the fire to heat up the needle to sterilize it.  If only they were having this conversation when she wasn’t panting heavily in pain.  

“Yeah!  Mr. Weaver down the street hated it, I think,” Matt says.  He furrows his brow very seriously.  “ _ Blasted kids running through here at all hours _ !”

“Ancestors, he sounds like Adal’s mother.   _ Where’s your decorum?! _ ” Sereda says with a laugh.  “Trian would always say… Nevermind.  Not appropriate.”

“Tell me!” Matt protests.  

Sereda shakes her head.  “Nah.”

“My dear,” Zevran interrupts as he threads the needle, “please try not to move.  I’m about to stick a needle through your arm over and over.”

“And look so good doing it,” Sereda teases, leaning back a little.  

“That is part of my charm,” Zevran says as he starts to stitch her skin back together.  

“And charm you do,” Sereda says.  

“I still think you should tell me what Trian would say,” Matt says in a singsong tone of voice.  

“Trian would say… so many things.  He was kind of a jerk,” Sereda says.  

“But he’s your brother!” Matt says.  “Don’t you love him?”

“Oh, of course,” Sereda says, staring into the distance.  “But when you love someone, you have to love them for who they are.  Or else things go bad.  That means you love jerks, cowards, and traitors.  People who are all three at the same time.  But every so often, you get to love someone  _ good _ and that’s the greatest feeling.  Ancestors, there’s nothing better than loving someone good.”

Zevran can feel her gaze skimming over his face and he concentrates even harder on stitching her arm up.  She can’t mean him.  There’s no way she can mean him.

“My brothers are really good people.  I think you’d like them,” Matt says.  “Both of you!”

“I bet we would,” Zevran agrees.  

Sereda hums in wordless agreement.  

“Ben is really, really smart.  He’s like a genius and Hal and Dad are saving money so he can go to one of the universities!” Matt says.  “Hal is like… I want to grow up like him.  He’s really cool.”

“Good,” Sereda says.  

Zevran is careful as he bandages up her arm.  “How’s that feel?”

“Like a dream,” Sereda says.

Given that the only dreams she has ever had are darkspawn nightmares, that can’t be a good sign.  He presses his lips gently to her temple.  

“It’s going to get worse,” Zevran murmurs.  “But I’ll be as gentle as I can be.”

“I know,” Sereda says.  

Zevran gets up to heat the knife up, wanting to make sure it’s as sanitized as possible before slicing and dicing into Sereda’s side.  Sure, Wynne or Morrigan will be able to fix any mistakes he’s made, but Zevran still wants to be careful.  

“Will I still be able to see them?” Matt asks.  “After you  _ really _ start to teach me to fight like you?”

“Not as often as you’d like.  I haven’t been to Orzammar in over half a year.  I wasn’t able to attend my brother’s funeral.  Last I heard, my father is sick and probably dying, but we have other responsibilities,” Sereda says somberly.  “Maybe we’ll make it to Orzammar in time, but we probably won’t.  I’ve already said my last words to my father and they weren’t pleasant ones.”

Zevran doesn’t know why she doesn’t just divert them to Orzammar, but he knows that she won’t.  There’s nothing that makes her quiet down quite so quickly as the prospect of returning to Orzammar. 

“Oh…” Matt says, looking down.  “What was it like when Trian died?” 

“Well, Zevran is about to slice me open with a knife and it’ll be infinitely more pleasant than losing my brother,” Sereda says.  “At first, I pretended it didn’t happen.  And then… I dunno.  I couldn’t anymore.  And it still feels like getting kicked in the gut whenever I remember he’s gone.” 

There’s a pain in her voice that has nothing to do to do with the arrow in her side.

“You probably shouldn’t talk too much while I’m doing this.  Just a humble suggestion,” Zevran says as he cleans the area around the wound.

“Smart man,” Sereda says.  “Just so you know, the arrow was on fire before it was inside my body, so hopefully, there wasn’t too much blood loss.”  

“Oh, good,” Zevran says.  “It’s always good to have things on fire inside of you.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere.  Pretend I made it, okay?” Sereda says.

Zevran laughs, trying to keep his hand steady as it nears her flesh.  “Anything for you, my dear Warden.”

“Thank you,” Sereda says.

“Matt, why don’t you keep her occupied with more stories about your brothers?” Zevran suggests.  

“Okay!” Matt agrees.  

Zevran wants to listen to what Matt has to say, but it’s a little more important to focus on Sereda right now.  He uses one hand to steady her as he starts cutting into her side.  His position means he can feel every grunt and every suppressed moan of pain.  It’s for her own good and he knows it, but he hates to see her like this.

“Be careful, Zevran,” Sereda says, his brain automatically deciding that her voice is important enough to pay attention to.  

“You’re the one in danger, my dear,” Zevran says.  

“You’re the one that’s sticking his fingers around an arrowhead.  There might be darkspawn blood in there, too.  You could contract the Taint.  So please, be careful,” Sereda says. 

“I will,” Zevran says.

How far they’ve come, from a failed assassination attempt to her being concerned about him while he slices her side open.  

“I do always enjoy it when you’re inside me,” Sereda says, earning a shallow smile from Zevran.  

“What does that mean?” Matt asks.

“Ask your brothers when you’re older,” Sereda says.  “Okay, Matt, it’s time for you to tell us more about the really cool places you’ve found in Denerim when your brothers were arguing with each other.”

This is necessary, of course, but that doesn’t mean that it’s any more pleasant to slide his fingers into her open flank and find the edges of the arrow.  It doesn’t seem stuck in bone or like it’s hooked around anything important, which makes him breathe a sigh of relief.  

He glances up at her face to give her a reassuring smile, but she’s staring at Matt.  It’s the distant, exhausted smile of someone who has lost more blood than is strictly healthy- not to mention the sweaty sheen on her too pale face.  Definitely not the evening that he had in mind for them.

Looking back down at her wound, Zevran begins the slow, careful process of removing the arrow from her body.  The last thing he wants to do is cause anymore damage.  

It comes out relatively easily, which Zevran is grateful for as he sets it aside.  He uses the remains of the bottom of her shirt to pack the wound.  He knows that it’s not hygienic, but it’s all they have available, and one of the healers will properly heal her tomorrow anyway.  

Zevran rests back on his heels, trying and failing to avoid looking at his bloodstained hands.  His hands have been covered in blood plenty of times before, but for some reason, it looks and feels different this time around.  

“Hey,” Sereda says, curling her hands- also bloodstained- around his.  “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Zevran says.  “How do you feel?”

“Kind of foolish.  I need to remember that my usual strategy of taking hits doesn’t work nearly as well when I’m not wearing any armor,” Sereda says, sitting up slowly.  

“I will remind you of that next time,” Zevran says.

Sereda laughs a little.  “Yeah.  Thank you.”  

“So, uh, what do we do about all the blood?” Matt asks.  

“A quick Valda bath,” Sereda says before giving a low whistle.  

Valda pads over to them, whining softly.  He nuzzles Sereda’s stomach with such care that Zevran has to wonder just how smart mabari really are.   _ Smart enough to talk and wise enough not to _ , the Fereldens say, and Zevran is inclined to believe them.

“I’m fine, you big baby.  Zevran took good care of me, like always,” Sereda soothes, patting Valda’s head.  

“Valda almost ripped off a darkspawn’s leg!” Matt exclaims.  

“Good boy,” Sereda says.  “Now, Valda, clean us up, please?” 

Valda barks happily and proceeds to lick them all clean (or, as clean as you can get when dog slobber is involved).

-

Sereda leans against Zevran, feeling strangely content.  Zevran has dressed her in a spare shirt he found in her pack and she munches on some stale bread.  It’s a good place to be.

“You can sleep, you know,” Sereda says, to both Zevran and Matt.  “Getting stabbed at just always makes me hungry.”

“Hmmm, I’m not sleepy,” Zevran says.  

“I don’t…” Matt presses his lips together.  

Sereda gestures him forward with her bad arm.  She manages not to wince as Matt sits next to her and she rests her arm on his shoulders.  

“What’s wrong?” Sereda asks.  

“I’ve just never seen so much blood before,” Matt says.  “Or someone in so much pain.  Or anything dead except, like, rats.  Or my mom, but they made her look pretty.”

“I’m fine, kid,” Sereda assures him.  “Just hungry.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Matt says firmly.

“You’ll be able to sleep, Matt,” Zevran says, reaching over to brush a few fingers through Matt’s curls.  “It’ll become less vivid, less immediate.  For a while, you might dream of it, but that’ll fade, too.  And you will be okay.”

Sereda looks up at Zevran.  It’s hard to watch for a lack of something, but she does.  There’s no easy smile, no raised eyebrows, no mask.  He just stares into the fire with a concerning amount of seriousness.  

“You felt like this, too?” Matt asks.  

“Yeah,” Zevran says.  “It’s okay to feel like that.”

“I hate it,” Matt complains.  

“It is a good thing, I think,” Zevran says.

“It feels bad!” Matt says.

Zevran laughs with a humor that doesn’t quite make it all the way up to his eyes.  “Many things that are good feel bad, especially at first.”

“That’s dumb,” Matt says.  “Good things should feel good, y’know?”

Zevran chuckles a little.  “Oftentimes, they will feel good eventually.”  He sounds wistful, though, and not quite sure.

Sereda wonders what exactly he’s thinking about.  He looks so serious, and she’s not used to seeing him like this.  Not that she minds seeing Zevran’s more serious side- in fact, she feels so privileged because she knows that Zevran doesn’t show it to everyone- but she worries about him.  She knows that he’s endured much more than he’ll ever tell her.

Zevran glances down at her.  He smiles at her, soft and sad, and she smiles back in understanding.  

“So, uh, about  _ not _ being able to see my brothers…” Matt says.  

Sereda inhales sharply because  _ brothers _ and blood loss and that goes together so well, honestly.  She turns to look over at Matt, smiling a little.  It’s a fake smile, but Matt doesn’t seem the sort to pick up on that.  Thank the Paragons.

“Yes?” Sereda asks.  

“Does it ever, y’know, feel good and not bad?” Matt asks.  

Sereda lets possible responses rattle around in her brain for a long minute.  Her breathing sounds too heavy in her ears and she doesn’t want to disappoint the bright, shining face looking up on her.  

“I think our situations are probably very different,” Sereda says.  She cringes internally because that sounds like such a ridiculous deflection.  

“Why?” Matt asks.  

“Because, from the sounds of it, there's nothing more important to your brothers than each other and you,” Sereda says.  “That's a wonderful thing, Matt.”

“What could be more important than your brothers?  Or sister, I'd guess, if I had a sister,” Matt says.  

“I've wondered that myself many times.  But people have their priorities, and they're not always what we want them to be.  If you have a family that loves you more than anything else, I don't think you should abandon them just yet,” Sereda says gently.  

“But you might be my only chance to really learn to fight!” Matt exclaims.

“The Grey Warden order in Ferelden will have to be rebuilt.  We train anyone who wants to fight,” Sereda says.  Although, she'd never want him to undergo the Joining.  To be dirty like she is.

“That could be years,” Matt complains.  

“It’s not going to take us years to stop the Blight,” Sereda says.  If it does, she’ll probably be dead.  “And right now, your brothers are probably worried sick about you.”

Matt crosses his arms.  “Your brother is probably worried about you but you’re still fighting.”

“Bhelen’s not worried about me,” Sereda says without skipping a beat.  Ideally, he thinks she’s dead like he planned.  “He’s really not.”

Matt frowns.  “Are you worried about him?”

“I don’t know,” Sereda says with a painful shrug.  “Sometimes?  It’s complicated.”

Matt’s frown deepens, and his sternness is almost comical looking on such a young face.  “You’re supposed to be  _ good _ , though, and good people are supposed to care about their brothers.”

“They didn’t ask if I was a good sister.  The Wardens asked if I would die to defeat the darkspawn,” Sereda says.  “And I would.”

“That’s dumb,” Matt says.  “That’s really dumb.”

“To be fair, there’s a lot more dying to defeat the darkspawn than good sistering in the Grey Wardens,” Sereda says, perhaps more flippantly than she really ought to.

Matt swallows hard and stands up quickly.  The sudden motion jostles her arm a little, but she just watches as he marches around to the other side of the fire.  He glares at them both before turning his back and snuggling back against Valda.  

Sereda watches him glumly as she shoves the last of the stale bread into her mouth.  She’s surprised to find her mouth dry.  It takes ridiculously long to chew the stale bread, and when she swallows it feels like suffocation.  

“So, I think that went well,” Sereda finally says, speaking softly so as not to disturb Matt.

“My dear, I’m sure he doesn’t actually think you’re a bad person,” Zevran says.  

“He’s sad and scared and misses his brothers and suddenly the world doesn’t work quite like he though.  And he doesn’t strike me as someone who likes admitting any of that,” Sereda says, looking up at Zevran.  “I understand, and people have called me much worse than really dumb and not good.”

Zevran strokes her cheek lightly with his fingertips and she leans into his touch.  One of the things she loves the most about him is how he never pushes her to give more than she’s ready to.  He’s looking at her with curiosity, with worry, but she knows that he won’t ask any questions of her.  

“If you truly miss your brother, we can divert to Orzammar,” Zevran says.  “I promise, Levi will understand.  We have already dragged him on quite the journey.”

“I wasn’t just exiled from Orzammar, Zevran,” Sereda says slowly.  Her head feels too blurry to keep this little bit of herself in.  “They had me executed.”

Zevran’s fingers pause.  “You appear very much alive, my dear.”

“Luckily, the man who wanted me dead was a coward.  He had me locked in the Deep Roads, figuring the darkspawn would kill me.  That’s how things are done, from time to time,” Sereda says.  Her dear brother.  “Duncan and the Grey Wardens were also in the Deep Roads.  Gorim told me before they executed me.  So I found them, and, well, I suppose they got my life in exchange for passage.”

“So what will happen if you return to Orzammar?” Zevran asks cautiously.

“I don’t know.  Hopefully not another, less cowardly, more permanent execution.  But it could happen, and if it does, I want to make sure that everything is done so all Alistair has to do is stop Loghain and then the archdemon,” Sereda says.  

“I would never…  _ Alistair _ would never let them execute you,” Zevran fumbles over his words.  

Sereda smiles a little.  “If they demand my life in return for Orzammar’s army, he’ll have little choice.  We need it to stop the Blight.”

“You already have the Dalish, the mages, all the Arl’s men.  When you’ve united the land, you'll have Ferelden’s army as well,” Zevran says.  “You don’t need Orzammar.”

“Orzammar’s warriors train their whole lives to fight the darkspawn.  They are the best because their hatred for the darkspawn runs the deepest and because the darkspawn are what they have always fought,” Sereda says.  “We need their experience.”

“I am sure that the Dalish and the good people of Redcliffe hate the darkspawn plenty,” Zevran says.

“The darkspawn have taken almost everything of ours.  Our thaigs, our great cities are twisted by Blight.  Everyone in the warrior caste knows someone who has been killed by darkspawn- and it’s been that way for hundreds of years.  They’ve taken almost everything and one day,” Sereda has to pause to press her lips together and choke back tears.  “One day, they’ll take Orzammar, too.  Surfacers are amateurs when it comes to hating and killing darkspawn.”

“My dear, there must be another way to get them,” Zevran says.  

“As long as it's quick, it'll be fine.  Even if they want to parade me around in chains.  That's fine,” Sereda says, looking down at her hands and feeling the manacles around her wrists again.  At least they're not dripping with blood anymore, but she still remembers how it felt to have Trian’s blood on her hands.  “It’d be worth it.”

It would hilarious to make Bhelen look her in the eye, instead of hiding like the coward he is.  She wonders if he could actually bring the sword down on her neck himself. 

“Sereda,” Zevran murmurs, hands closing around her suddenly shaking ones.  “It wouldn't.”

“It probably won’t even happen,” Sereda soothes.  If she can convince her brother that she’s not out for revenge, just an army.  “I’ve just learned to be prepared.”

“Alastair won't take the risk anyway,” Zevran says. 

“It's why I haven't mentioned it.  He'll get all stubborn about not wanting to risk it, and I'd rather not leave negotiations with the dwarven empire to him when I can help,” Sereda says.  

“You can't help anyone if you're dead,” Zevran argues. 

“You'd be surprised,” Sereda says.  “And like I said, it's very unlikely.  Just a possibility that I don't want to ignore.”

Zevran doesn’t look particularly soothed by this.  She can’t blame him.  If he wanted to risk himself like this, Sereda wouldn’t be happy about it.  But they both know it’s necessary, so Zevran will make peace with it.

Sereda gets to her knees, pain shooting up and down her side and arm.  Everything hurts- inside, too.  She misses her family, she misses the feeling of family that she hasn’t had since she was a teenager, and she misses feeling secure.  The night turned so sad so suddenly.   

Zevran’s watching her, hands just slightly outstretched like he’s ready to catch her.  Moving ever so slowly, Sereda sinks against him.  It puts painful pressure on her arm and side, but the comfort of Zevran’s arms is well worth it.  

The crook of his neck smells like dog and darkspawn mixed with the Antivan brandy that he loves so much.  She buries her face there, inhaling deeply as Zevran strokes her hair.  

“You should get some sleep,” Sereda murmurs.  “It’s your turn.  You took last watch.”

“You need rest,” Zevran says.  

“I’m okay,” Sereda says.  “I had your excellent care, after all.”

“I’m much better at taking lives than saving them, my dear Warden,” Zevran says.  

That almost makes her laugh.  It very well might’ve if not for the pain in her side and the small boy sleeping across the fire.  He told her all about Rinna, about how his attempt on her life was actually a suicide attempt, and tonight, she wants to tell him just how much she understands those feelings.  

How after Bhelen framed her for Trian’s murder, after coming to the surface, after swallowing darkspawn blood to become part of the Blight, and after the slaughter at Ostagar, she had wanted to die, too.  About how in some deep, dark part of herself, she had let Zevran live not out of altruism or a deep belief in giving people second chances, but because she had hoped he would slide a knife across her throat and end it.  

But instead, Zevran had made her laugh when she had least wanted to.  He had smoothly explained the strange surface world to her, never making her feel stupid for her own ignorance.  His kindness had helped the things that had scared her become the things that excited her.  

Zevran hadn’t been the only person to help bring her back from that dark place.  There had been Alistair and Morrigan and Leliana- and Valda, too, of course.  But Zevran had given her the most and asked for the least, giving her space to grieve without even knowing what she was grieving.  

Sereda pulls back so she can look Zevran in the eye.  Her side is aching as she cups his face gently.  

“You’re better at saving lives than you give yourself credit for, my dear,” Sereda says, tossing the familiar pet name back at him.  

Zevran leans up to kiss her.  He’s so careful that she can barely feel the pressure, except for the sparks it sends right through her.  

“See if you can get some sleep,” Zevran says.  

Her position is putting a strain on her injuries and she can’t hold it for much longer, so she lays down, gently tugging Zevran down with her.  

“Sleep,” Zevran says softly.  

Zevran is careful as he wraps his arms around her, snuggling close, but not too close.  That won’t do for her, so she presses herself back against him.  A little pain is more than worth it.  

Sereda watches the small boy and the big dog across the embers from the fire.  Matt is sound asleep, face buried in Valda’s fur.  That’s exactly how she used to sleep during those first months.  Really, until she started sharing her tent with Zevran.  

Zevran kisses the top of her head gently, singing softly in Antivan.  

“Unfair,” Sereda says sleepily.  

He knows that she’s helpless against his voice, particularly when he’s speaking Antivan.  Curled up like this, it lulls her to sleep like nothing else.  

“My dear Warden, I am an assassin, not a fair man,” Zevran murmurs.  

Sereda’s eyes are closing even though she wants to stay up to argue with him.  Blast him.  

-

“D’you think she’ll forgive me?” Matt asks the next morning.  

Sereda is still sleeping as Zevran stokes the fire.  It needs to be hot enough to cook breakfast on.  

He looks up at Matt with raised eyebrows.  “Trust me, her capacity for forgiveness is unbelievably large.” 

“But I called her bad!  And dumb!” Matt exclaims.  

Zevran smiles softly.  “Shall I tell you the full story of how I met the lovely Warden?”  

“You wanted to join her, right?” Matt asks.  “Because you heard how powerful she is.”  

“Not quite,” Zevran says.  “Promise not to punch me?”

“Okay,” Matt says, crossing his arms and squinting  _ very _ intimidatingly.  “No punching.”

“I did not seek out the Warden to join her.  Someone paid me to kill her, and I tried to carry out the contract.  She killed my entire team and whacked me on the head- quite hard as I recall- and knocked me out.  They tied me up and woke me up to ask me about who hired me.   I was very forthcoming, and then offered her my services,” Zevran says with a laugh.  

“But you just tried to kill her!” Matt exclaims.  

Zevran laughs.  “Really, begging for my life just seemed like something that I ought to try.  I didn't think I would actually receive any mercy.  But she took mercy on me regardless.  If she took mercy on me, I am certain that she can find it in her heart to forgive you for a few rude words.”

Matt chews his lip, nodding a little. “And she really clearly likes you a whole lot.”

The thought that her affection for him is so plainly obvious makes his stomach twist in strange ways.  It feels like a trick or a lie, except Matt is so painfully earnest.  

While Zevran generally prides himself on being a smooth talker, he finds himself stumbling over his words.  “While I’m not sure why the Warden decided to spare my life, I do hope she’s happy with her decision.”  

“I am,” Sereda’s voice comes from behind him.  

Zevran turns to see her watching him with bright green eyes.  Her face is still pretty pale, but as long as she looks alert, he’s not too worried.  He gets to his feet so he can help her to hers.  

“How do you feel?” Zevran asks.  

“Hmm… Like I got shot in the gut by a darkspawn but patched up by an incredibly handsome man,” Sereda says.  “So, not too bad.”

Zevran smiles as they settle next to the fire.  “Good.  I’ll check your injuries after breakfast.”

“Uhhhhh… Sereda?” Matt asks hesitantly.  

“Yes, Matt?” Sereda says as Zevran gets to work with breakfast.  

“I’m, uh, sorry for calling you dumb and bad,” Matt says.  “You’re not, and I totally promise that’s not because I want to learn to fight.  One day.”

Sereda has a bright, contented smile on her face.  “It’s okay.  It’s more than okay.”

“Is it also okay if I go back to Denerim?” Matt asks, voice wavering just a little.  “My brothers really are worried, and I don’t think that it’s fair to them.”

Sereda gestures Matt forward and squeezes his shoulder gently with her good hand.  “That is a very good idea.  I know that you really want to learn to fight, but it’s good that you’re taking care of your brothers like this.  It’s so good, Matt.”

“Are you sure?” Matt asks.  

“Yes,” Sereda says.  “You’re a good brother, and that’s an important thing to be.”

“I’d be your brother, if I could,” Matt says, hugging her tightly.  

Sereda hugs him back, and Zevran watches the tension in her shoulders ease little by little.  

“I think you’re a little tall to be my brother, but I’d like that,” Sereda says when they pull apart.  “Your brothers are very lucky to have you.”

“They’re gonna be so mad at me…” Matt says in a small voice.  

“They’re gonna be so happy you’re safe and sound.  Trust me,” Sereda says, voice catching in her throat.  “If they’re half as good as you say they are, more than anything else, they’re going to be so happy to have their little brother back.”

“They're even better!” Matt proclaims.  

“Good,” Sereda says.  

Somehow, she manages to pour so much longing into that one syllable.  From the Guardian, he knows that Bhelen schemed and Trian died.  It hadn't quite occurred to him that they had a close relationship once.  The thought of whatever happened being an outright betrayal disturbs him and makes him… angry, even though he has no idea what happened.  This is all very confusing.  

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Zevran says, mostly because his own feelings are making him uncomfortable.  

“Is it more underground food?” Matt asks fearfully.  

“Don’t worry,” Zevran says.  “This morning, it’s all surface food.”

Sereda snorts, shaking her head.  “Surfacers.”

“You still find us charming and amusing,” Zevran says smugly.  

“True,” Sereda says.  

“What is living underground even like?  Ooh, do you make bat noises instead of seeing with your eyes?” Matt asks.  

Sereda tilts her head in the way that indicates that she doesn’t understand  _ something _ that Matt has said.  He’s guessing that she doesn’t know what bats are, but it’s also entirely possible that it’s just that she doesn’t know what noises bats make.  Later, when they’re alone, he’ll find a way to casually drop bats into a conversation, and she’ll give him the small, grateful smile that she always does.  

As Sereda launches into an explanation of what living underground is like, Zevran focuses more on the flow of her voice.  The sound of her voice is so comforting, wrapping him up in warmth.  While, of course, he’s heard beautiful voices before, none of them have ever made his heart race or brought a smile to his face just by talking about such mundane things.  

“Zevran!” Sereda’s voice cuts through his musing about her voice.  

“Hmmm?” Zevran asks.  

“The food is on fire,” Sereda says, pointing.  

Zevran looks down to see that, indeed, the food is on fire and he quickly does his best to put it out.  All he’s left with is a very burnt breakfast in the pan.  It’s barely recognizable as food, unfortunately.  

“Is this some unique Antivan cooking technique?” Sereda asks, looking down into the pan with a raised eyebrow.  

“Just distracted by your beauty, my dear Warden,” Zevran says.  

“I don’t think that we can eat that,” Matt says, nose wrinkling.  

“You ate Valda’s mabari treats last night,” Sereda points out dryly.  

“But those had cheese on them!” Matt protests.  

“I think we have some more in my pack,” Sereda says.  

Matt gets up and brings her the pack.  “Can I have some?  Please?”

Sereda sighs as she digs through it.  “Your brothers are going to attempt to kill me if they find out that I’m feeding you mabari treats.  I mean, I don’t know them, but I’d assume.”

“Just don’t hurt them too badly,” Matt says, happily taking the stash of mabari treats from her.  “Because then I’d have to fight you and I like you a lot.”

“I’ll be careful,” Sereda assures him before turning to Zevran with a mabari treat in hand.  “Hungry?”

Zevran laughs and shakes his head.  “I’ll buy something when we get to Denerim.”

“You’re missing out on something really good, Zevran!” Matt says.

Sereda appears to consider the mabari treat for a moment before biting into it.  She chews slowly, a horrified look dawning on her face.  

“Is it that bad?” Zevran asks with amusement.

“ _ No _ ,” Sereda says in complete horror.  “It actually tastes okay?  Zevran, I’ve spent too much time in Ferelden.  Help.” 

Zevran gets up, walks over to her, and presses a kiss to her hairline.  He cards his fingers through her short hair affectionately.  “If you start sprouting a tail and dog ears, I’ll start worrying.”

“You can’t joke about that when we’ve met and cured actual werewolves, Zevran!” Sereda says with a laugh.  

Zevran wrinkles his nose.  “Your breath smells like Valda’s.”

Sereda grins mischievously and blows her gross dog breath in his face.  

“Is this how you’re going to defeat the archdemon, my dear?” Zevran asks, darting to the other side of the fire.

“Yep,” Sereda says with a grin.  “I figure that it’s the most potent weapon I have.”  

“I will never tire of your unconventional choices, my dear Warden.  Although, I would suggest bringing a sword or two along just in case,” Zevran says.  

“I suppose you’re right,” Sereda says.  “But just know that if I could chase you, I’d be showing you just how potent this weapon can be.”

“I can chase him!” Matt says.  “And I’m sure my breath smells real bad!”

Before Zevran can say anything, Matt has sprung to his feet.  He runs at Zevran with a very determined grin on his face.  

Zevran jumps backwards, light on his feet as always.  He laughs as he lets Matt get in an arm’s reach before darting away.  It only makes Matt more determined, which doesn’t surprise Zevran at this point.  

After a few minutes of chase, Zevran lets Matt catch him.  The small boy crashes into him, knocking them both to the ground in a pile of limbs.  Both of them are laughing, Matt sitting on top of him and practically preening.  

“I got you!” Matt crows.  

“Yes, you did,” Zevran says.  “I am your helpless prisoner.”

“It’s important to treat your prisoners well,” Sereda chimes in, amusement plain in her voice.  

Zevran tilts his head to look at her.  She’s watching them with such tenderness, a small smile gracing her face.  But it’s more than tenderness.  It’s longing, too.  It’s longing tinged with sadness.  

He’s distracted from trying to figure out exactly what she’s feeling by a dog breath’ed human blowing in his face.  

“Oh, no!” Zevran exclaims, thrashing about convincingly.  “I am slain by the fearsome Matt!” 

“I win!  I got him!” Matt yells.  

Sereda comes up behind Matt and places a gentle hand in his curls.  “D’you think I could have him back?  I need Zevran.”

Matt looks down at him, considering.  “I guess so.”  

“Thank you,” Sereda says as Matt gets up.

“My dashing hero,” Zevran says warmly, getting to his feet.  “Thank you, my dear.”

“Of course,” Sereda says, pressing her hand against the small of his back.  “Now, I think it’s time to get Matt back to Denerim.” 

“We could keep him,” Zevran says jokingly, but not really.  

Sereda smiles up at him and he can tell that she’s vaguely tempted.  “Maybe after the Blight.”

“Maybe,” Zevran murmurs, not wanting to say it too loud.  It’s not something that he can bring himself to fully believe quite yet.  That there will be an after, an after with her and him together somehow.  The Crows are still coming for him or she might tire of him or decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth or they might die.

“Will you come meet my brothers?” Matt asks.  

“We’ll see, Matt.  If they try to set the city guards on us, we should probably just run,” Sereda says.  

“They won’t!  Or, well, I’ll tell them not to, at least,” Matt says.  “And, I mean, they love mabari.”

“They are Ferelden,” Zevran says.  

“I’m afraid that Valda won’t be coming with us.  We should probably send him back to the others to let them know that we won’t be back as soon as we thought,” Sereda says.  “I’d hate for Alistair to worry too much.”

“Valda can talk?” Matt asks.  

Sereda laughs.  “Maybe, but I figured I’d just write a note.”

Zevran watches as she presses pencil to paper to scrawl a hasty note.  He reads over her shoulder.  

_ Alistair- Child followed us to camp.  Have to return him to Denerim.  Will be back late. _

“Mention that I managed to avoid killing you,” Zevran says.  “Alistair is always worried about that.”

Sereda nudges him.  “Alistair’s just kidding now.  Mostly.”

Zevran rests a hand on her back.  “Ah, but you don’t see the way he glares at me when you’re not looking.”

Sereda leans up and presses a warm kiss to his cheek before turning back to finish the note.   _ Managed to avoid being assassinated by Zevran as I do every night.  -Sereda _

“Yes, that should put his mind at ease,” Zevran says.  

Sereda whistles softly to Valda.  When the mabari is settled in front of her, she slips the note into his collar.  She tightens the collar to make sure the note doesn’t slip out.  

“You take it right to Alistair, okay?” Sereda says, patting his head.  

Valda barks and pads away.  

“Such a good boy,” Sereda says affectionately.  

“Now, you sit down, my dear Warden.  We’ve got a decent walk ahead of us, and you’ve got stitches to contend with,” Zevran says.  

Sereda huffs and puffs, but sits down regardless.  

They pack up camp, Zevran doing most of the work.  While Matt tries to help, he also clearly has no idea what he’s doing.  It’s not too bad, though, because they really didn’t bring that much stuff.  

“You’re sure that you want to walk all the way back to Denerim?” Zevran asks her when they’re packed.

“Since I’m fond of you, I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that,” Sereda says, getting to her feet with a grunt.  

Zevran smiles, trying not to let his worry show.  “Your mercy is remarkable.”

Sereda snorts before wincing and holding her side.  “You have to try to be less charming and amusing until Wynne can heal me up.”

“Noted,” Zevran says.  “It will be difficult, but I will try.”

“I’ll whack him if he fails!” Matt promises.

“Please don’t,” Sereda advises.  “The last thing we need is two injured adults trying to escort you back to Denerim.”

“I can escort you!” Matt says, putting his fists up and swinging at invisible enemies.  

Zevran laughs as they start their walk to Denerim.  “But then how will we return to our companions?”

Matt thinks it over for a moment.  “Okay, no whacking.”

“Thank you,” Zevran says, patting Matt’s curls absently.  “I appreciate your mercy as well.”

Matt grins.  “It’s too bad that we have to go back to Denerim right now.”

“I’ll write you,” Sereda says.  “Tell you all about our adventures.”

“Really?” Matt says.  “You won’t be too busy?”

“There’s a surprising amount of downtime while off stopping Blights,” Sereda says, grinning down at the human child.  “I’ll find time.”

“We,” Zevran interjects.  “We’ll find time.”

Sereda turns her radiant smile to him, and Zevran finds himself smiling back and flushing.  “We will!”

“Cool!” Matt exclaims.  “My brothers aren’t going to believe it!”

Zevran keeps a worried eye on Sereda as they walk back towards Denerim.  Her breath is coming heavier than usual, even though they’re keeping a slower pace for Matt’s sake.  He wants to offer her a break, but he knows that she would just roll her eyes at him for worrying.  

“You guys should come visit me when you’re done saving Thedas!” Matt says after about ten minutes.  Honestly, Zevran is surprised he lasted that long with the quiet.  “I can show you all the cool hiding places in Denerim!”

“What do you think, Zevran?” Sereda asks.  “Want to come with me to visit Matt once we stop the Blight?”  

It’s a simple question with a simple answer.  As always, the thought that Sereda will want him later, won’t cast him aside, seems too good to be true.  A clear farce.  

“It sounds like a delightful day trip, and it’s always good to know the best hiding spots in a city,” Zevran says.  “I can’t imagine a better teacher.”

“It’s settled!” Matt says, jumping in apparent glee.  “I can’t wait!”

“Me neither,” Sereda says with longing in her voice.  “It’ll be a good day.” 

As discreetly as possible, Zevran slides so he’s walking right next to Sereda.  To his surprise, she leans against him, looping an arm around his waist for support.

“You just want the chance to cop a feel,” Zevran murmurs as Matt runs ahead.  

Sereda looks up at him gratefully.  “And here I thought I was being sneaky.”

“I find you very transparent, my dear, but I enjoy it,” Zevran says.  

“Good,” Sereda says with a slight laugh.  

The sound of her laugh makes Matt whip around.  “Zevran!  You’re not supposed to make her laugh!”

“I apologize,” Zevran says.  

“It’s okay, if Sereda says it is,” Matt says.

“It’s okay,” Sereda confirms, smiling up at him.  

Zevran smiles back, keeping a close eye on Sereda the rest of the way. 

-

Sereda is in so much pain, but she still has a smile on her face.  This has been such a good and pleasant day.  Whoever thought that some random human child could bring them such happiness?

“Just in case your family decides to set the guards on us instead of greeting us, let me just say that we have enjoyed having you with us,” Zevran says as they enter Denerim.  

“We have,” Sereda agrees.

“You guys are both really cool!  I’m glad I decided to follow you!” Matt says.

“Yes, well, please don’t make a habit of following strangers into the woods,” Sereda says.  “I’d assume it doesn’t always end this way.”

“But what if it does!  There could be more super cool super nice strangers out there!” Matt says.  

“Trust me, this is not how such things usually turn out,” Zevran says.  “There are many people out there who would gladly take advantage of you.”

“Now you sound like Dad,” Matt says with a pout.  “When he’s actually around.  And Hal when he isn’t.”

“Good to know I haven’t lost my annoying big sister touch,” Sereda says.  “Now, which part of Denerim do you live in?”

“Near the Arl of Redcliffe’s estate!” Matt says, grabbing her hand and pulling her gently forward.  

“The Arl of Redcliffe, hm?” Zevran says.  

“Yeah, my dad works for him sometimes,” Matt says.  “I dunno what he does, though.  The Arl is kind of a jerk, though.”

Sereda laughs.  “I know.  I’ve met him.”

“Gross,” Matt says.  

Sereda follows Matt through the streets of Denerim.  She enjoys the sights and sounds of the city, the great bustling of life, and it’s always pleasant to be with Zevran, even if they’re just walking in silence.  

“Hey!  Hey!” a male voice comes from behind them.  “Stop or I’ll call the city guards.”

“Hal!” Matt yells, turning around.  “Don’t!”

“Matt, get away from them!” Hal yells as he runs towards them.  

“But they’re my friends!” Matt says, even as he runs to Hal.  

Sereda inhales sharply as their bodies collide.  She can see the sheer relief in Hal as he wraps his arms around his little brother.  A hand presses into Matt’s curls and Sereda can feel the tears pricking at her eyes.

She tries to remember the last time that Trian or Bhelen had been even half that happy to see her.  It takes a moment because it was so long ago.  The memory makes her chest ache.

“Let's go,” Sereda says quietly.  

“You don’t want to meet Hal and Ben?” Zevran asks. 

Sereda wipes at her eyes hurriedly and looks up at him, shaking her head.  “I don’t want to intrude.” 

Zevran looks like he’s about to argue, but then he looks down at her and nods.  “Okay.  Come, I know a back way.”

Sereda takes his hand and lets him lead her away from the two brother.  A third boy runs up to the two of them, joining them in the hug, and Sereda has to look away.  She hates the envy that’s burrowed its way into her chest.  

Had she, Bhelen, and Trian ever been so carefree?  Maybe when they were very small children.  But Matt’s two brothers are both grown men, or else very close to it.  And they still seem so carefree.  

“Can we rest a minute?” Sereda asks.  Her side and arm are aching, and they must be far enough away now.  

“Of course,” Zevran says.

He guides her to a bench and kneels in front of her, despite the filthy street.  

“I’m fine, Zevran.  Just tired,” Sereda says, leaning back a little.  “You can go find something to eat, if you want.” 

Zevran lifts her shirt and the bandages up just a little so he can examine the wound on her side.  His fingers come away bloody.  

“The relative lack of blood in your body could be why you’re tired,” Zevran suggests.  

“Or it could just be a coincidence,” Sereda tries to joke.  

Zevran looks distinctly unimpressed.  “Perhaps.”

“Just go get yourself something to eat,” Sereda says.  “You have to be hungry, and as soon as Morrigan waves her staff over me, I’ll be fine again.” 

“I’ll find you something a little more substantial than mabari crunches, okay?” Zevran says, not looking particularly soothed by this.  

“Don’t forget to get yourself food, too,” Sereda says as he puts the bandages back in place.  

“Of course,” Zevran says, wiping her blood on his pants.  “I will be back shortly.”

Zevran leans up to kiss her cheek gently before getting to his feet.  He takes one long look at her, as if he’s worried she’s going to bleed out while he goes and finds some food, before turning to go.

Once he’s out of sight, Sereda groans softly, letting herself feel the pain of her injury and her sadness.  Unfortunately, Morrigan won’t be able to wave her staff over her and make her stop missing her brothers.  

It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so unbearably stupid.  Bhelen and Trian both tried to kill her, Trian had been so cruel in the years leading up to his death, and Bhelen had been cruel in his kindness, given his plans.  Missing them is the pinnacle of idiocy, especially when she has so many wonderful things in her life now.  

And yet, there are tears sliding down her face thinking about the last time they were all together and happy.  Although, Bhelen could have been plotting their deaths even then.  It sours the memory a little.

“My dear, is your wound hurting you?” Zevran’s voice is tentative.

Sereda jumps a little, wiping at her eyes hurriedly.  She sees Zevran standing in front of her with two kabobs with some kind of meat and veggies on them.  

He looks worried about her, and Sereda appreciates him for giving her such an out.  She’s never willingly disclosed much of anything about herself, especially about her brothers, but he’s still not prying.  That’s more privacy than a lot of people would give her.

Zevran sits next to her, handing her the kabob, and they both eat.

“I miss my brothers,” Sereda finally says, leaning her head against his shoulder so she doesn’t have to look at his face.  “It’s, uh, really dumb, all things considered.  But I miss Trian and Bhelen.”

“They are your brothers,” Zevran says.  “It’s understandable, I think.”

“They were harsh.  But when we were children, we were a lot like Matt and his brothers.  Kind of,” Sereda says.  “I don’t even just miss that, though.  I miss Trian and Bhelen, even at their worst.  I miss Trian telling me how terribly I’m going to fail or Bhelen’s backhanded compliments that always left me feeling strange.  Ancestors, if he knew that I was one of the last Grey Wardens left in Ferelden and that I had to stop a Blight, I can just imagine what Trian would say.   _ The surface is even more bereft of talent than I thought, if they’re putting their fate in  _ your _ hands _ .  Ugh.”

“I understand.  While the Crows were… cruel, as were many of my comrades in arms, I do find myself missing them at times,” Zevran says quietly.  “It is foolish, and I much prefer your company to theirs, but I feel it nonetheless.  Perhaps because it is what I am used to or because people don’t only miss what is good for them.  You are not alone in this.”

That Zevran understands makes her feel better about the whole thing.  Maybe it’s a weird kind of normal, to miss the people who used to hurt you.

“I had a really nice night.  With Matt.  With you.  It was just seeing him and his brothers that made me feel all nostalgic for my own,” Sereda says, looking up at Zevran.  

“I am glad that you had a pleasant night,” Zevran says, smiling sadly at her.  

“I know that you’ve been worried about me lately and I know that I’ve been kind of uptight, but I feel a lot better than I did,” Sereda says.  “It was a good night, and I really want to thank you for that.”

Zevran’s smile turns happier.  “I think it was mostly Matt’s doing.”

“Partially, yeah.  He’s a good kid.  But it wouldn’t’ve been as good if you weren’t here,”  Sereda says.  “There’s a reason why I wanted you to come with me on this trip to Denerim.”

“It was my pleasure,” Zevran says.  

Sereda slips her hand into his, squeezing.  “Can we sit here for a little while longer?  Just the two of us?”

“We can sit here for as long as you want, my dear,” Zevran says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  

-

Alistair paces back and forth at camp, waiting anxiously for Sereda and Zevran to return from Denerim.  There had been blood on the note that Valda had given him, which is a very nerve wracking thing, especially since the the note didn’t mention where the blood came from.  

“The Warden is quite capable of taking care of  herself, you know,” Morrigan says.  “She doesn’t need you fussing over her like some mother hen.”

Alistair rolls his eyes.  “I’m not fussing over her!  I’m just worried because of the blood.”  

“Men.  Even the mabari knows that she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” Morrigan says.  

“He’s a dog,” Alistair says flatly.  

“And yet so much more perceptive than you,” Morrigan says.  

“Sounds like you’ve had a great time in our absence,” a very familiar voice comes from behind him, sounding pained.

Alistair whips around to see Sereda and Zevran standing at the edge of the clearing.  Sereda is leaning heavily on Zevran, her face drawn up in pain.  

“Sereda!  Are you okay?” Alistair asks.  

“We had a fun, fun time with some darkspawn last night,” Sereda says.  She lifts up her shirt to show them a bloody bandage.  “I came out on top, though, and Zevran saved Matt from a small group of darkspawn, too.”

“The kid you mentioned?” Alistair asks.  

“Perhaps we could talk about Matt while the beautiful Witch of the Wilds heals the dear Warden?  My ability to heal her injuries are far inferior to Morrigan’s,” Zevran interjects.

“As I told you yesterday, you’re an excellent lifesaver,” Sereda says, nudging Zevran gently.  

“Regardless, as I said, Morrigan’s abilities far surpass my own,” Zevran says.  “So if you’d please, dear Morrigan?”

Morrigan sighs and gets to her feet, grabbing her staff.  “Lay back, my friend, and we’ll see what I can do about your injuries.”

Sereda rolls her eyes, but lets Zevran help her to the ground as Alistair rushes over to help him.  For all their disagreements on things like murder, at least he and Zevran both agree that it’d be great if Sereda didn’t die.  

“You could have come back last night,” Alistair says, trying very hard not to look at the gaping wound on her flank.  Not because blood grosses him out or anything, but because he respects her privacy.  

“We were having fun with Matt,” Sereda says, trying not wince as Zevran pulls up her sleeve, revealing another injury, and undoes the bandages.  “And Zevran removed the arrowhead with ease, so I figured, why cut the night short?”

“Oh, yeah, just you, a random kid, and an assassin.  What could be more fun?” Alistair says dryly.  

“Not much.  Zevran is very good with kids, and Matt’s a good kid,” Sereda says.  

“Zevran is good with kids?” Alistair asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow to look over at Zevran.

“As is the beautiful Grey Warden,” Zevran says, taking her hand and looking down at her tenderly.  

Alistair’s skepticism softens.  He doesn’t understand why Sereda feels how she does about Zevran, but he’s glad that she has someone to make her this happy.  Given that Zevran hasn’t tried to kill them again, maybe Alistair should consider being a little more friendly towards him.  

“Then, uh, I’m glad that some child followed you both?” Alistair offers.  “Since you’re both so good with the kids and all.”

He’s very careful not to sound sarcastic.

“Thank you,” Sereda says, beaming up at him.  

It makes him smile back instinctively.  He’s never had romantic feelings for Sereda, but there’s still something that makes him happy when she’s happy.  It’s the feeling that he had wanted when he searched out Goldanna.  A sense of family and belonging.  

“And your injuries are healed,” Morrigan says flatly.

Sereda looks down where the injuries used to be before smiling.  “You left the scars!”

“Yes, well, I know that you do like them, and we aren’t in the heat of battle,” Morrigan says, sounding utterly bored by the whole affair.  

“Keep this up, and people will start to believe you’re growing fond of the beautiful Warden,” Zevran teases.  

“And if you keep playing house with her, people will start to think that’s what  _ you _ want,” Morrigan says, without looking up.  

Both Sereda and Zevran are very suddenly not looking at each other.  

Alistair clears his throat, trying to dispel the sudden awkwardness.  “So, about the kid…?”

They both perk up at the mention of the kid they picked up.  It’s almost scarily in sync.  If they ever sort out how they feel about each other, they’ll be even more terrifying, Alistair is sure.  

He listens as they chatter about the child that they found.  They have a surprising amount of stories, considering they spent less than a day with the kid.  It does make the day of walking pass faster, at the very least.  

-

“He was quite attentive while listening today, like a brother might be,” Zevran whispers to her that night when they’re snuggled up together around the fire.  She can barely hear him, like he’s worried that he might offend her.  It’s a very clunky way of getting across what’s been accumulating over the past few months.

Warmth floods Sereda as she looks over at their dear friend Alistair.  “Yeah.  An awfully good one, too.  Goldana missed out.”

But Sereda did not.

-

Either Ben or Hal has been with him since he ran away to learn to fight.  Hal gets annoyed when Matt practices the fighting that Sereda and Zevran taught him, but Ben likes to pretend to be a dumb darkspawn.  He’s much easier to hit than Sereda.  

Hal doesn’t really believe that he found a Grey Warden and her friend to teach him to fight- Ben disagrees, of course-, but he humors him.  It’s kind of insulting but it’s better than everyone fighting, so he doesn’t argue.  

So Matt practices and dreams of grand adventures, even if he is more than happy to be back with his brothers.  When he thinks about how sad Sereda always got when talking about her brothers, it makes him happy to have his.  

“Matt!  Come down here,” Ben yells.  

Matt lets his fake sword clatter to the ground and runs downstairs.  It sounds urgent!  And he likes running!

“Someone left this for you,” Ben says, waving something around.

He snatches it from Ben’s hand, pleased that it’s a hefty stack of letters.  

“I don’t think that you’ve ever been so excited to read,” Ben says dryly as he watches him.

“It’s Sereda and Zevran!  It’s gotta be!” Matt says, tearing opening the envelope.  

There are many pieces of paper in the envelope, some small and some larger.  One is larger the the rest, but all of the smaller pieces of paper have drawings on them.  He pays attention to those first.  

There's a snowy mountaintop and there's a creepy castle and there are walking skeletons and Valda and a sleeping Sereda and a lot more.  They're all really pretty, and Matt flips through them eagerly. 

“Woah, buddy, what's all this?” Hal asks as he comes down stairs. 

“Drawings and a letter from Sereda!  And Zevran!” Matt says, grinning at him.  

“The strangers who kidnapped you sent you letters?” Hal asks, scowling.  

“I don’t think you can call it a kidnapping if he followed them into the woods,” Ben says, looking over the pictures with interest.  

“I did do that!” Matt chirps.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Hal says, waving his hands as if that’s not important.  

Matt doesn’t answer, squinting at the letter.  The writing is so small and Matt’s not very good at reading in the first place.  But it’s Sereda and Zevran!  So he’ll try.  

“Do you want me to help you?” Ben asks, leaning forward a little.  

“No!  What if there’s secret Grey Warden business?!” Matt exclaims.  

“They must’ve made some impression,” Ben says.  

Matt just hums vaguely as he focuses on reading the letter.  It’s hard, especially with the scribbling in the margins, but he manages to make his way through it.

**Dear Matt,**

_ Greetings from the chilly north! _

**We’ve made it way up north.  What even is this snow stuff?  I’m not sure that I like it.  Very cold and damp.  Don’t worry, Zevran is keeping me plenty warm.** _ She makes the cold much more pleasant, I must say, even if it is very different from Antiva. _

**And mountains!!!!!** _ Her face absolutely lit up when she saw them for the first time.  I tried to draw an approximation, but I don’t think anyone can capture that.   _ **They kind of remind me of Orzammar.  Less polished than our Stone, of course, but so beautiful.**

**I hope that your brothers aren’t too angry at you for our escapade.  And again: don’t ever do it again.** _ Don’t!!!  Even if they have mabari! _

**We travelled to an old, abandoned Grey Warden fort.  It’s called Soldier’s Peak, if your nerdy brother is interested in it.  There was a demon possessing a dead Grey Warden.  It wanted to talk, but it insulted Valda, so I killed it instead.  That was fun.** _ It was better than that time she summoned a dragon to fight for her own fun, at least. _

**Now, we’re on our way to Orzammar.  I’ll see my brother soon.  I’m…** **uncertain** **nervous about it, but I figure if you can go back to your brothers, I can go see mine.**

**After Orzammar, we’re going to go to Redcliffe** _ hopefully with no undead army assaulting the place this time _ **and then Denerim.  If you want to show me and Zevran some good hiding spots in the city, leave a note at the Arl of Redcliffe’s estate, and we’ll be sure to come say hi.** _ We will be excellent guests!  And bring Valda! _

**Zevran thought you might find a long letter boring, so he decided to draw where we’ve been instead.  You’ll find all of his drawings enclosed (I’m sure you have already).  He’s a talented artist.  I didn’t even know!** _ Now she is making me draw many things.  What a cruel, cruel woman she is. _

**-Sereda & ** _ Zevran _

“Wait a minute!” Ben exclaims, elbowing Matt.  “What do they mean ‘if your nerdy brother is interested in it?’  Did you tell them I’m a nerd?  Did you tell a Grey Warden that I’m a nerd?”

“Sereda asked about my brothers!  What else was I supposed to say?” Matt replies.  

“They can’t seriously expect us to just let you see them, considering they kidnapped you.  That’s insane,” Hal says.  

“Of course I’m going to see them!” Matt says.  “They’re my friends!  You can come!  You both can!  They want to meet you.”

“They are some of the few people who Matt doesn’t seem to want to punch,” Ben points out.  “That’s got to be worth something.”

“If they try to kidnap you, I’ll make them regret it,” Hal promises.

“They won’t!” Matt says, very pleased that Hal is willing to meet Sereda and Zevran.  “You’re going to love them!  They’re the best, except you guys!  And they’ll bring their mabari.”

“Oooh, mabari.  Hal, we can’t say no to a Grey Warden and her mabari,” Ben says, looking at the pictures curiously.  

“Why aren’t you the least bit suspicious of the people who kidnapped your brother?” Hal asks.

“Because Matt followed them and they returned him the next day.  If they’re kidnappers, they’re very bad at it,” Ben says.  “And look!  The letter right here warns Matt not to follow any other strangers into the woods.”

Hal’s gaze softens a little bit.  “That’s… good, at least.”

“See!  They’re good,” Matt says, looking at the pictures again.  “They’re good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I wanted my Fight Smol (tm) and her lovely boyfriend to meet Johanna's Fight Smol (tm) and this was the result.


End file.
